I hate air travel. As soon as someone comes up with a teleportation device that can get me to all the spanking parties across the country, I will be so happy. Last Thursday was the start of my trek to arrive at the SCONY Mountain Weekend. Poor S missed precious sleep to take me to the airport at 4 am for my 6 am flight. The last few times I’ve gone I’ve done the red-eye which I like because I’m already awake and I just get there and it’s done with. Arrangements this time had me on a different flight schedule though. I said goodbye to S and made my way through checking bags and security.

I boarded one of those super claustrophobic small planes that have just two seats on each side of the aisle. I couldn’t even stand up straight without hitting my head. People in the NBA must always fly private or something because planes are not meant for tall people. After a layover I boarded a regular sized plane and I’m sure the person in front of me enjoyed my knees in their back for 4 hours. That’s what you get for reclining, dickhead. The weather was nice that day and the plane even arrived a bit early. I was outside with my bags and Joey arrived to pick me up. B’s flight arrived soon after and we were on our way.

NYC traffic is so terrifying to me. I can’t imagine ever driving in that city and living to tell about it. Joey drives like a pro though and navigated through all the crazies with no problem. We all chatted about the upcoming weekend and our travels for the day. He provided water and a cookie for me. Before I knew it, I was starting to recognize that last few miles of road that leads to the resort. I felt the familiar butterflies in my stomach as we approached.

It was late afternoon and a big crowd was already there. Lots of hugs and hellos were exchanged, including with the beloved staff. They are all so great and I look forward to seeing them as much as I do my other friends. I chatted with a few people and went to my room to put my bags away and clean up before dinner. It was a really big crowd for a Thursday as we all settled into the restaurant area. Ms. Margaret and Mr. Ryder arrived and gave hugs all around.

I was sitting across the table from Mr. Lewis. For the record, he is from Switzerland. Apparently Sweden and Switzerland are not the same place. He gets very testy when we ask him if he hangs out at Ikea. What? I heard New Yorkers like that store! Mr. L has recently moved and I had seen a picture of his new place and furniture. I innocently asked if it was from Ikea (and it WAS!). He took my comment as being sarcastic. Can you imagine?

After dinner was over, we went back to my room. He bent me over the bed and said I was going to spell Switzerland with each swat because that’s where he is from. I was really tempted to spell out S-W-E-D-E-N, but I didn’t. I started off strong. “S!” Smack! “W” Smack! “I” Smack! “T” Smack! “L!” Smack! And a pause… It really wasn’t on purpose. Now we know that I’m not good at spelling under duress. I missed a syllable. He said I was wrong so we had to start over. On the second try, I spelled it just fine. We hugged and headed down to the lounge for karaoke.

There are some people who HATE karaoke. I am not one of them. Being the introverted person I am, this is surprising to people. Someone once said to me “how can you sing karaoke but you can’t get naked in front of people?” Uh, I don’t think those are comparable situations. But I will take singing any day over having to be physically exposed in front of people. And I don’t even need alcohol to do it. I sang once and then again with a group song. There were a lot of people so I didn’t sing as many as I usually do because I wanted to go to bed at some point.

A few weekends ago, I had said (complained as some perceived it) that I never got spanked on Thursday. Since that comment, I have been. It was mentioned once again by E who was willing to remedy that. Really nice of him, right? Tops are always looking out for my best interests. Or something… We went upstairs behind a curtained off area. He sat in a chair and I took down my pants and went over his lap. I don’t know why my memory chooses to fail me after each trip, but I never fully remember how hard the hands of the SCONY tops are until I’m there again. It was only Thursday so he was nicer… sort of… but it was certainly still felt. He gave me a hug and we returned downstairs.

I was still conscious for a while longer watching other people sing. Several jumped in this time that I had never seen do karaoke before. Everyone seemed to be having fun. I couldn’t believe how many people were continuously going off to play. In the past, Thursdays were a more low-key settling in day. Clearly many folks were hitting the ground running this time. Joey was one of them. We went upstairs and had a short warm up scene, ending with a hug. I’ve joked before that I really am not into spanking at all. I secretly have a hug fetish and found that spankos are the perfect group to infiltrate to get my fix. Many spankings and many hugs added to my exhaustion and I finally went to bed. To be continued…

I'm very sure you did the Ikea comment on purpose and to tease me about my heritage. And just for the record I will keep doing so with all folks out there who tease me about this… Just sayin' (or warning).

You were fortunate to encounter Mr. L. early in the weekend, before “Mr.” S advised him that we should have to spell “Switzerland” forwards AND backwards. I'm pretty sure I screwed up the backwards part, but I guess Mr. L. did not notice that. Can't imagine why, as he could not have been nearly as distracted from the task as I was at the time. Hellifiknow.